Saturday, June 15, 2013

The most important day of my life was
the day I found out I was pregnant. I know most people may say the
birth of their child is an important day, but that event was almost
anti-climatic when compared to just one week earlier. You read that
right, I found out I was pregnant one week before giving birth. I had
always thought that only happened to teenagers in denial, but not to
someone like me. I was over 30 and intelligent and I had just seen my
doctor a month before, wouldn't he have told me I was pregnant?

My husband, Brian, and I were living in
Iceland. He's in the Air Force and we were finishing up a three year
tour and were sad to be leaving. Iceland is gorgeous and nothing like
what most people imagine. Brian and I had already been married for
almost 10 years and although we had been trying to get pregnant were
told we would need lots of help to do so. We decided to put the idea
out of our minds while living overseas and away from our families.

It was our last weekend on the island,
we wanted to go sightseeing with friends one last time. Our desire
was to visit one of our favorite waterfalls, Seljarlandsfoss, it is
beautiful and you can walk behind it looking out from behind the
cascading water. I was carrying both a video camera and our friend's
four year old daughter, it was muddy and I didn't want her to slip. I
was so miserable. I couldn't breath and felt completely out of shape.
I had just been to see my doctor a month prior to this, complaining
of tiredness, backaches, weight gain and swollen ankles. He had done
a blood workup and determined I did not have diabetes or a thyroid
problem. He advised me to lose the extra weight as he felt that was
the root cause of all my other problems.

After getting back to the vehicle and
complaining of my out of shape condition my friend asked me if I
would take a pregnancy test. I laughed and said that I had just been
to see the doctor and I'm sure they would have mentioned it. She
persisted saying it was just a hunch and I finally caved in. The next
morning I woke up and took the first test of the double pack she had
bought for me. I read the results and didn't think I had done it
right, I'd tried the direct to stick method and felt that there
hadn't been enough contact, so the results were inconclusive. I
waited an hour and then tried again. This time I tried the stick in a
cup method making sure there was enough contact between the liquid
and the tester. This one couldn't be denounced by operator error –
it was definitely positive.

I was stunned. Well, I thought, that
certainly explained a lot. I still had no idea how far along I was
though. I called the base hospital and pleaded with them to come in
on a Sunday and do an exam to see if I was in fact, pregnant. I was
leaving the island the next weekend, headed out on a plane and back
to the states. I'd be on vacation without medical care for over a
month. They were so understanding and we headed right in. I had
spoken to our friends and everyone was now placing bets as to how far
along I was; first trimester with twins, second trimester,
triplets...

Once at the hospital they were
preparing me for an ultrasound when the doctor asked to do a visual
exam first. My old doctor had already left Iceland and was now
stationed elsewhere. With her next words my entire life changed.
“Well, you are dilated to about a 4, my fingers are touching your
baby's head, and you are having a contraction as we speak”. Is
that what that was? That had been happening for a couple of weeks
now, I thought I just needed to use the restroom – but then nothing
would happen. Once I was finally hooked up to the ultrasound I was
introduced to my baby. Not just the little blurry peanut shape
ultrasound that everyone claims they can see is a baby, I was looking
at a big baby head in profile! The best part was that it was
father's day, I handed the ultrasound picture to Brian and while
crying said “Happy First Father's Day”.

More tests were to follow. The
measurements taken lead them to believe I was 39 weeks pregnant. “How
far along is that?” I asked trying to divide by 4 to figure it out
in months. I was told a normal pregnancy is 40 weeks, but because I
was so far along it was too hard to know for sure. Because of the
contractions and my lack of prenatal care they want to keep me longer
for observation. I was laughing and crying at one point when my nurse
came in asking me why I was making his monitors so erratic. Between
the tears and hiccups I cried “I can't have a baby, I haven't read
any books yet!”. He laughed and promised me this was something he
could help me with. He came back with two books, one in each hand.
The first, he read out loud “What to Expect When You're Expecting”.
That one he threw over his shoulder and out into the hallway, sending
me into more laughing hiccuping fits. The second one, “What to
Expect the First Year”, he handed to me “I'd pay particular
attention to the first chapter”, that chapter explained the process
of delivering a baby.

This observation was followed up by an
ambulance trip to Reykjavik, the capital city of Iceland. I had more
tests and more consultations with Icelandic doctors to determine if I
was actually ready to deliver. My contractions had stopped and they
were considering letting me go back home. During another ultrasound
an Icelandic technician was training another technician from Denmark.
They were speaking English so when they were describing what they
were viewing, and worked their way to the baby's sex, there was no
mistaking it - we were having a boy! They were worried that I had
wanted to be surprised and they had just given it away, “you can't
surprise me anymore than I already am!” I laughed.

This is just the exciting beginning to
our wonderful story. Our son, Alexzander, decided to hang in there
for another week. I was briefly able to enjoy being pregnant without
worrying that something else was terribly wrong with me and all
indications were that the baby was just fine as well. In the
meantime, we made tons of phone calls. Our families were so happy for
us, although we were sad to be missing Brian's sister's wedding. We
had to contact several military agencies making sure that they knew
not to kick us out of military housing and off the base quite yet. We
had shipped off our vehicle already and were living with only our two
suitcases. We were told we'd be staying for an extra two months for
our son's passport, thankfully between the baby gifts and borrowing
from friends we had enough stuff to see us through. Alexzander
decided to come one week later. The next Sunday morning my water
broke and later that night I had a c-section. He was a perfectly
healthy 8 lbs. 6 ozs. 20 inches long.

I've learned so much from this
adventure. I now trust myself more and listen to my own instincts. I
do not rely so much on intellectual knowledge, whether from a book or
from a professional. I am also more open to the unexpected and the
unplanned, knowing that something amazing could be just around the
corner - a true miracle from God. I left Iceland with the best souvenir I could have ever
imagined.